


A Sweeter Kind of Fire

by Kawa (fandomonymous)



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, POV Second Person, an attempt at canon style, now with fanart!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomonymous/pseuds/Kawa
Summary: "LieutenantKitsuragi, you know I do not pull rank often. Butthisis of the utmost importance - a celebration of you joining our team. We cannot leave you out of this toast, and to do so withoutsomealcohol - without some fire in your gut - is almost an insult to the tradition!"
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 169





	A Sweeter Kind of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rulse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rulse/gifts).



> Congratulations on becoming a moderator at main Disco(rd) Elysium, rulse! Thanks for being a cool-ass Drunk Cop.
> 
>  _Not_ sorry, however, on making that fic something I can't post there. :)

JEAN VICQUEMARE: Jean pulls himself upright from the low booth the three of you have been sharing in this bar. Most of the 41st plus Kim had been scattered across this back room, but everyone else had been filtering out over the course of the evening. "Congrats on finally joining us, Kitsuragi, and welcome to the 41st," Jean says with a lazy grin. "I'll see you at the office on Monday. Make sure Harry gets home in one piece," and with that, he leaves. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Fuckin' _finally_. I love Vic - I love watching that ass leave as much as you do - but let's be real, he was cramping your style. 

PERCEPTION (SIGHT): Kim is nearly done with his third cocktail of the evening. He is sitting across from you, with a mirror behind him; there is a low table between you two, covered in cheap alcohol bottles and ashtrays full of stubs, plus two fancy rocks glasses that match the one in his hand. In the corner of the mirror, a square is etched into the glass; the square is painted purple, with a black spiral shape on it.

ENCYCLOPEDIA: The Purple Curve, a symbol of the homo-sexual underground. This is one of the only bars in Jamrock that won't flinch at affection regardless of gender.

SAVOIR FAIRE: His drink of the evening is the _Grand Couron_. Fanciest cocktail on the menu.

EMPATHY: And you paid for all three of them. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS: There was to be a round for the new colleague, before Captain Pryce's toast. And when Kim tried to demur, tried to just get seltzer, you said -

YOU, A FEW HOURS AGO: " _Lieutenant_ Kitsuragi, you know I do not pull rank often. But _this_ is of the utmost importance - a celebration of you joining our team. We cannot leave you out of this toast, and to do so without _some_ alcohol - without some fire in your gut - is almost an insult to the tradition!"

KIM KITSURAGI, A FEW HOURS AGO: Something in his lip twitched at that - some color entered the tips of his ears - and then a lazy smile. "Well if you'll buy me _any_ thing…"

COMPOSURE: There was _nothing_ you could do to stop him from ordering it at that point. 

LOGIC: He outdrank your wallet, but not you. You've been buying cheap beer for yourself this whole time to match him.

HAND-EYE COORDINATION: And won three rounds of darts with other members of the 41st to get some shots of cheap liquor in yourself.

EMPATHY: But yes, you couldn't resist each time Kim ordered the next Grand Couron.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: There's a reason for that though.

PERCEPTION (Sight): The lieutenant raises the heavy rocks glass to his lips. Gorgeous amber swirls within it, lit up by strobe lights throughout the bar - blue and gold and hazy red. The mirror behind him, lit luridly, blinds you occasionally unless you focus on him in shadow. You watch the liquid disappear. Watch his throat move to swallow, that beautiful line of his neck. 

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Light and shadow playing across his skin, across his glasses. A mirage - a miracle - beauty to rival an Innocence.

KIM KITSURAGI: He puts down the glass slowly -

DRAMA: There's _some_ thing he wants to play up; a flourish for effect, sire -

KIM KITSURAGI: - Then licks his lips, and looks at you. 

CONCEPTUALIZATION: A large feline, lithe, hungry, ready to pounce.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Hey, Harry. Remember how you kept asking me for a secret?"

EMPATHY: You haven't asked in weeks! 

AUTHORITY: Also, it's _never_ Harry, it's always _detective_ or _officer_ , even off the clock, what the hell -

KIM KITSURAGI: "Would you like to see something I'm _really_ good at?"

RHETORIC: _That's_ a weird question, but damn if you're not curious.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Wait - do you think he _actually_ -

  1. Be the bisexual disaster. Flash the finger guns. "Go for it, Kim."
  2. [Authority - Challenging 12] Force it out. " _Lieutenant_ , I _command_ you to show me."
  3. [Pain Threshold - Legendary 14] Be teasing and dismissive about it. "Oh, it can't be that big a deal, right?" 
  4. Keep drinking, silently, maintaining eye contact. See what he'll do.



**3**. Green flash - a success. 

YOU: "Oh, it can't be that big a deal, right?" 

KIM KITSURAGI: Suddenly, Kim's leaning over the table, and grabbing your tie to pull you in; his face is close, so close. You can smell the bourbon, cut through with the bitters and vermouth and something more dark and raw. "You'd think you'd know better by now than to underestimate me, Harry," he says, low and rough. Before you can say anything, he's released your tie, and grabbed the back of your neck. It's at this point, as you realize what's happened, that he kisses you, _hard_.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Oh _fuck_ this feels _amazing_ , this was worth every goddamn centimo.

PAIN THRESHOLD: He's not being gentle. At all. The pull of the tie was a whip second of breathlessness, which he's now fully taken advantage of. He's kissing _hard_ , all force; his mouth melts into yours, demanding surrender with every insistent, spit-slicked movement. 

PERCEPTION (Taste): Caramel-tinged fire. A blend of spices in counterpoint. No tobacco - he hasn't had his One today.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: They'd go together brilliantly, though, emphasizing the smell of wood with literal smoke.

ENCYCLOPEDIA: The Grand Couron is similar to a cocktail known as the Aerostatique. Given his fondness for the machines and his fastidiousness, he probably picked his favorite cigarettes to match the drink and the rest of the image. Indeed, if he could trust them to have the right ingredients, he probably would have ordered an Aerostatique…

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Well, at _this_ particular moment, he's enjoying a Harrier.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Kim is holding you fiercely - one hand on the back of your neck, the other gripping your shoulder. He's stronger than he looks. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Did I mention that he's good at this? He's coaxed your mouth open, his tongue curls around yours.

AUTHORITY: He already has remarkable control over you, doesn't he? He already had that control before he was literally using your mouth, but now he's got you helpless. 

EMPATHY: Through the booze, he kisses you with a remarkably focused intention. He's wanted this for a while.

PERCEPTION (Sound): [Challenging: Success] Someone coughs loudly off to the side.

KIM KITSURAGI: He pulls away, looking a bit abashed, and turns to the side where you'd heard the cough. "Khm."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Damnit. 

BORED BARTENDER: "Glad you're enjoying yourselves..." He looks down in disbelief at the RCM patches on your jackets. "...Officers... But uh, we're closing up. You've already paid your tabs, but you can't stay."

KIM KITSURAGI: The lieutenant's mask of professionalism slides back on neatly, even if his lips are still a bit swollen and slick with bourbon and spit. "Of course. We won't keep you."

  1. [Composure - Medium 10] Let Kim get up by himself. "After you, Kim."
  2. [Physical Instrument - Challenging 12] Get up.
  3. [Empathy - Formidable 13] Help Kim up. Offer a hand.
  4. Wait to see what Kim does.



**2**. Red screen - failure.

YOU: You try to get up from the booth, but your legs wobble too much to be trustworthy.

KIM KITSURAGI: Kim is already upright, holding a hand out to you. 

YOU: You take it, let him pull you up - 

KIM KITSURAGI: He wasn't quite expecting the fullness of your weight. Now you're up, but crushed against him, bodies pressing together.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Why, _hello_ there - 

KIM KITSURAGI: His right hand is still holding yours, now pulled in where your stomachs meet. His left hand is on the small of your back - 

PERCEPTION (Touch): It's _moving_ -

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: _Lieutenant. Kitsuragi. Is. Feeling. Up. Your. Ass._

COMPOSURE: He must be _very_ drunk.

KIM KITSURAGI: Your body is so distracted by his left hand that you do not even notice his face buried in the crook of your neck, until he starts talking; a warm, wet murmur against sensitive skin. "My place or yours?"

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Holy. Fuck. Did he really just ask that?

KIM KITSURAGI'S NEW APARTMENT: Kim moved to Jamrock two weeks ago. The transfer process was so slow - weeks upon weeks of waiting for paperwork to pass between the precincts and the Moralintern - that you were able to spend your evenings helping him move. His place isn't far - certainly closer than his old place, deep in Precinct 57 territory - but yours is closer by a few blocks.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Jean said to make sure _you_ got home, not the other way around. Though you're not sure he realized just how drunk Kim got.

COMPOSURE: Your place is, as always, a bit of a trainwreck compared to his.

  1. "My place, it's closer."
  2. "Your place, it's cleaner."
  3. "Which do you want?"



**3.**

KIM KITSURAGI: "Cab to my place?" 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: His hand has not left your ass, by the way.

  1. [Logic - Medium 10] "...Unfortunately, I spent my last centimo on your last drink."
  2. [Electrochemistry - Trivial 7] Wiggle your ass a bit.
  3. [Pain Threshold - Legendary 14] Grab _his_ ass.



**3.** Green flash - a success.

YOU: You reach over and grasp him, a body you have been wanting for so long now but never let yourself hope for. There's a look of surprise on his face, that quickly morphs into a devilish grin, and -

KIM KITSURAGI: His hand leaves your ass just quickly enough to - THWACK.

PAIN THRESHOLD: A solid sting, that would bloom beautifully into redness on bare skin but even through clothing sends a jolt through you. That was a warning shot. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: **Let's get that cab. NOW.**

KIM KITSURAGI: He untangles from you, still wearing that grin. "I hope there will be more of that later," he says, and heads to the bar to use the phone. 

YOU: You shuffle behind him, slowly feeling your legs regain sensation. 

RHETORIC: Along with Copotypes, there are Drunkotypes. Like Copotypes, they overlap. 

EMPATHY: Touchy drunk. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Chatty drunk.

SAVOIR FAIRE: _Cocky_ drunk. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: _Horny_ drunk.

RHETORIC: And probably many more, that you are thankful Kim is not.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Angry drunk.

ENDURANCE: Mean drunk.

HALF LIGHT: Anxious drunk.

DRAMA: Sad drunk.

RHETORIC: As many drunks as there are people, really. So what are you, Harry? What kind of drunk are you?

THOUGHT ACQUIRED: Drunkotype Taxonomy  
You once were someone who drank to forget, until you forgot almost everything. You're working on the building of new memories, and haven't stopped drinking, but it's different now - you only drink when socializing, as ritual. Still, somehow, the booze must do something, in the place of amnesia. What is it doing to you, exactly? And relatedly, what exactly does it do for Kim, and why do you care so much to know the answer to that question?

COUPRIS MARK 40: The cab arrives quickly enough - a Coupris Mark 40, in sleek black. 

INTERFACING: You see the subtle look of approval on Kim's face - the MC is well maintained. 

YOU: Instinctively, you open the door for him. 

SUGGESTION: You learned to do that for _dates_ , for _paramours_. 

KIM KITSURAGI: He flashes you a grin, bemused. With no teetering, despite all the drinks gone past those lips and down that gorgeous throat, the lieutenant slides into the cab. "98 _et demi_ , rue Dephoure, please."

SAVOIR FAIRE: Ridiculously, _devastatingly_ cool, even while drunk. How?

KIM KITSURAGI: He settles in the back seat, perfectly framed by the dark inside the motor carriage. He looks back at you, eyes half-lidded, and something playing at the corner of his lip. Getting into the empty seat next to him is suddenly the most vital thing in the world.

YOU: You careen into the cab; your left hip shoves into Kim's right, the force recoiling through you. The end of your coat almost gets stuck in the cab door as you slam it quickly behind you. 

UNAMUSED CAB DRIVER: The driver was _not_ expecting two _RCM officers_ to leave this particular bar, but is attempting to be nonplussed about it. Regardless of the bar's underground affiliation, they're still expecting what normally happens when a pair of cops leave a dive bar late on a Friday - banter, insults, railing complaints about the city and its ungrateful citizenry. They grimace and begin to drive. 

KIM KITSURAGI: Kim's still wearing that grin - 

COMPOSURE: It's not going anywhere until the exact moment it cannot stay - 

KIM KITSURAGI: - and a hand brushes gently along the top of your right thigh. Slow strokes; Down, then up.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: His hand is _centimeters_ away from where it should be, and then just. Leaves. The fucking tease.

KIM KITSURAGI: His chin is on your shoulder; he's whispering in your ear. "It's interesting, isn't it? When we met, one of the first things you asked me for is a secret, and I didn't budge. You ask a few times during THE HANGED MAN; I never give. But in all these weeks since, helping me move furniture across Revachol and get through the local bureaucracy, you don't even think to ask. What changed? Why did you stop asking?"

CONCEPTUALIZATION: _You_ know what changed. The Homo-Sexual Underground thought you had gotten during the case - had solved just before taking off in a particular small boat - had split, then morphed. One side of the thought was a cavalcade of colors and images, shining and lurid, masculine and feminine and simply human, a kaleidoscope, multitudes layered on multitudes. The other had settled, very cleanly and insistently, on the brightness you swear you always see behind Kim's frankly beautiful face.

EMPATHY: You wanted to respect Kim though, crush aside. You wanted Kim to be your colleague and a friend, as much as you wanted other things. So you dropped what seemed to bother him, helped him with what he needed. Of _course_ you want to know a secret - who wouldn't? - but you knew it wouldn't come from asking.

YOU: "I figured you would tell me when you were ready, I guess. What changed for _you_? Why are you offering your secret now?"

KIM KITSURAGI: His lips brush behind your ear, just for a moment. "So I'm the one can you won't open without permission? That's very interesting. As for me..." You cannot see it, but the grin has spread to his eyes. "I wanted a chance to show you, instead of telling. And I needed pretext, for that."

  1. [Empathy - Formidable 13] Ask for permission.
  2. [Rhetoric - Godly 16] Ask for his secret.
  3. [Electrochemistry - Trivial 7] Ask him to put his hand somewhere else.



**1**. [Red flash: failure.]

YOU: The words come out of your mouth before you can even think about what they are. "So does that mean I can open your can, Kim?"

CONCEPTUALIZATION: And at this point, the heavens open -

KIM KITSURAGI: Kim is _laughing_. Heartily. Joyfully. It is only a little at your expense, but still - it is _wonderful_.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: **NOW!**

YOU: You lean over and thread a hand through his hair - 

PERCEPTION (TOUCH) : How the fuck is it _so soft_ , what does he _do_ -

YOU: - and tilt his head over, facing you; you quiet his laughter with a kiss. 

EMPATHY: Softer than before, but no less hungry. A fine meal, not a wolfed down treat. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You have not forgotten what you're doing; how to tease, how to play.

UNAMUSED CAB DRIVER: At this point, tragicomically, the cab comes to a full stop, which makes Kim pull away and don the Professional Mask.

COMPOSURE: You'd think with reddened lips and tousled hair it wouldn't work, but apparently more things in this world are capable of miracles than you'd thought.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Thank you. How much do I owe you?"

UNAMUSED CAB DRIVER: "12 reál, please."

KIM KITSURAGI: He hands over the cash, simple, smooth.

REACTION SPEED: More than half a day's pay. For fuck's sake, you're not going to Wheat Town. The fucker charged you...

DRAMA: For discretion, m'lord. Which explains why Kim was prepared to pay so much and didn't question it.

ENCYCLOPEDIA: Also, it's as much as a board game of Suzerainty. 

EMPATHY: Which is probably the first time you'd really noticed how he _really_ is, underneath the professional face. The way he takes on challenges, his competitive streak, that tinge of vanity.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: And the way he handled pieces in his long fingers; plus the shapes of his face, the lines of his throat.

KIM KITSURAGI: He hops out of the cab, and extends a hand to you - the apartment's on his side of the street. 

YOU: You take his hand, gratefully, and get out as well. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You have not had much time to sober up, but you can handle yourself okay - falling-down-drunk you are not, at least not in your current state. A warm, gentle flush is tingling through you, though, as it has been for a while...

PERCEPTION (Touch): He's looped his arm around yours, to squeeze himself against you, left hand wrapped around your right bicep, as he leads you onward. 

KIM KITSURAGI: As Kim reaches the doorway to the apartment complex, he suddenly stops and twists a bit, from his core to his shoulders.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: The movement makes you stumble forward; now he's followed through with his gloved hands, shoving you through the doorway. You're going exactly where he wants you, no more, no less.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Him pushing you around is hot, yes, but you need more. Keep touching him - don't let go - nothing matters more than the sensation of body against body. 

YOU: You stumble through, and Kim takes the opportunity to stride confidently ahead of you down the hallway. You practically run to catch up, sliding your hands along his sides once you do.

KIM KITSURAGI: Kim gives you a withering look. "Now now, we've got a bit more to go, don't we? Don't be hasty - and don't make me punish impatience."

DRAMA: Another pretense, my liege. If you disobey, he _will_ punish you - but only in ways that you crave.

  1. [Volition - Impossible 20] "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
  2. [Electrochemistry - Trivial 6] Grin wolfishly. " _Not_ sorry."



**2**. Green flash - success.

PAIN THRESHOLD: Kim slaps your ass again - quick enough to catch you by surprise, loud enough to echo in the hall, hard enough for your eyes to sting just a little.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: A lighting spark through your body, pumping pleasure alongside the pain through your nerves. 

YOU: Your cheeks flush at the echo. "Aren't you worried anyone else will hear?"

KIM KITSURAGI: "I don't have the kind of neighbors who would care." He bounds up the stairs at that, harboring no further discussion.

KIM KITSURAGI'S NEW APARTMENT BUILDING: In your thorough vetting of apartments, the two of you made sure no children live in this building and the landlord was comfortable with the underground. The neighbors can handle adults consensually enjoying themselves, within reason, and are particularly lax on Friday nights, when half the building's tenants are out on the town chasing their own moments of debauchery.

YOU: You scramble up the stairs to catch up. By the time you've gotten to the right landing, he's already at the door. There is a single weak, flickering lamp in this part of the hallway, casting long shadows on you both. 

PERCEPTION (Sound): The sound of metal on metal, but small - fumbling with a keychain. 

VISUAL CALCULUS: Time freezes, however briefly, as you focus on the keychain. The Kineema, two locks for this door, two more you don't immediately recognize - a safe, and maybe a briefcase? Not many keys in total, which makes sense; he surrendered his desk and locker keys at the 57th and has yet to get the equivalents at the 41st. 

COMPOSURE [Medium: Failure]: Not that many keys, so why is he struggling? Is the alcohol finally catching up to him?

LOGIC [Medium: Failure]: He just moved here - maybe he's still getting used to the keychain in its current state?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success]: No, he's _distracted_ \- you should distract him some more! Look at that neck, so vulnerable; doesn't it look delicious? If you kiss it now, what will he do? What if you _nibble_?

AUTHORITY: Regardless, a rare moment: when Lieutenant Kitsuragi isn't restraining you with a professionally raised eyebrow. Nor is he giving you such an arresting look that your body locks obediently and patiently for him, without him ever lifting a finger. 

  1. [Volition - Impossible 20] Wait for him to open the door.
  2. [Electrochemistry - Trivial 6] Go for the neck.



**2**. Green flash - a success.

YOU: You step forward, closing the distance between the shadow of your massive form and the lines of his small, graceful body.

You feel him, just for a microsecond, tense. The keys clink in his hand as your body presses against his. When you lean forward, and your hungry mouth brushes against Kim's neck, you can feel the breath hitch inside his throat - an encouragement you take, to bite down.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: The strangled "Oh, _fuck_ " from him, startled and breathy, is enough to make your cock strain in your trousers, pressing firmly against his ass.

KIM KITSURAGI: This is, of course, the moment Kim finally unlocks the door, tumbling through from the force of your body weight on his. Once the two of you are inside his apartment, he slams the door shut and presses your body against the doorframe with his own.

PERCEPTION (Touch): The door spreads a chill down your back, and his body sears your front. Kim's lips are so close to yours, it feels like your breath is shared, the air vibrating under the tension. One gloved hand winds in your hair and tugs - hard.

PAIN THRESHOLD: Delicious, sparkling pinpricks. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips settle into a self-satisfied smirk.

KIM KITSURAGI: "I told you to be patient."

RHETORIC: Not that _he's_ being patient.

AUTHORITY: Indeed, he seems to know exactly what he wants and is getting it -

EMPATHY: And thank your lucky stars, it's _you_.

KIM KITSURAGI: He's all but tearing your clothes off while moving you to the bedroom, occasionally pressing kisses against exposed skin.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: And the occasional deep whiff in your chest hair, you furry bastard.

REACTION SPEED: You're _just_ steady enough to avoid tripping over yourself along the way.

YOU: "Are you always this hasty with late night guests?" you manage to choke out as your shirt goes flying, landing on the radiator across the living room.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Only the ones I really want," he snaps back, hands already working on your belt buckle. 

VOLITION: All your clothes are strewn carelessly along the way as the two of you go - so far from the usual precision with which Kim keeps house.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: White marble, with veins of green and gold. Cold and impersonal, if not for your careless additions to it.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Which brings us to his bedroom, with you naked, standing at the foot of his bed. And he's still fully clothed, other than having kicked off his boots near the entrance. 

YOU: "Hey, Kim, do you want to -"

KIM KITSURAGI: The smile on Kim's face turns leering, challenging. "If you want me unclothed so badly, _Detective_ , you should _do_ something about it."

  1. [Physical Instrument - Medium 11] Take control.
  2. Let Kim take the lead.



**1.** Green flash - success.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You've been wanting him so long - so _hungry_ \- 

HALF-LIGHT: Nearly tearing his shirt off him, like your life depended on it, depended on the vulnerability of bare skin. The body, taking control. 

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Your hands move quickly, confidently, undoing his belt and fly, shoving down pants and boxers deftly. 

EMPATHY: A look of surprise in his eyes, turned eager. Ears bright red, a small gasp from his lips. He knew you were capable of this - he saw the destruction at the end of your bender, so long ago now; he's admired your physique from afar enough - but he is still surprised at the way that you are not a pushover now. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: So what are you going to do with him now? Where's this party going, hot stuff?

  1. [Physical Instrument - Heroic 15] Push him onto the bed.
  2. [Electrochemistry - Heroic 15] Push him down onto his knees.
  3. "So what now?"



**1.** Red flash -failure.

KIM KITSURAGI: Kim locks his knees to resist your pushing. "Wait. Are you ready?"

  1. "Yes."
  2. "No."
  3. "Huh?"



**1.**

RHETORIC (Failure): Do you even know what you're agreeing to?

EMPATHY: _Everything_. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Fucking his brains out, obviously. GIMME. 

KIM KITSURAGI: "You don't even remember, do you?"

YOU: "I mean, I want to have fuck with you and I'm definitely ready for _that_ , if you couldn't tell." You roll your hips a bit for effect.

KIM KITSURAGI: "K-khm. I meant my secret. Unless you don't _want_ to know - that'd be just fine with me, if you've decided to drop the subject entirely."

EMPATHY: NO!!! You _must know_.

VOLITION: Oh for the love of everything, _please_ hold back on your own carnal desire until you know.

YOU: "Well then by all means, Kim, tell me your secret."

PERCEPTION (Sound): A breath, a moment of silence.

RHETORIC: Secret communard?

HALF LIGHT: Secret _peone_?

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Secret rap sheet full of gay crimes?

SAVOIR FAIRE: Secret Moralintern spy?

EMPATHY: Secretly loves you?

KIM KITSURAGI: For the first time this evening, Kim's eyebrow is raised. 

AUTHORITY: It's different from the usual - the assured control is there, but there's mischief, too.

KIM KITSURAGI: He leans up, once again close enough for your lips to _almost_ touch. "My finest skill is with my mouth."

And in one smooth motion, he's on his knees with your hard cock swallowed down.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Who would have ever fucking thought that you'd get to really, truly _party_ with fucking Kim Kitsuragi, in the most vulgar and unabashed way possible? Incredible.

SAVOIR FAIRE: It takes some serious talent to look that good with a mouth full of cock. He's still _devastatingly fucking handsome_. It's practically unfair. You should tell him so.

YOU: " _Damn_ , Kim, you weren't fucking kidding," you say in admiration, sliding a hand into his hair. "Your mouth is a miracle. We should tell the church - we have a new Innocence, of The Perfect Mouth to Fuck."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You are correct - he's _really fucking good at fellatio_ , damn. If sex is a party, Kim Kitsuragi's mouth is the VIP room - an exclusive place where _magic_ happens like you wouldn't fucking believe.

PERCEPTION (Touch): Those lips tug _perfectly_. That tongue is lapping so amazingly right under the head and it is heat and velvet and just. Incredible.

COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure]: There is nothing for you to hold onto. You have become an utter, utter thrall to the sensation; your soul is being sucked out of you. Push your hips to thrust into that mouth, let it overtake you completely -

VOLITION [Impossible: Failure]: Fuck, what if it's too deep, can he really handle this without a warning?

SUGGESTION [Legendary: Success]: The challenging look in his eyes and the steady hand on your hip says, "fucking go for it, _I can take it_ ". 

KIM KITSURAGI: And oh, can Kim Kitsuragi _take it_. Even as the head of your cock pushes into his throat, even as his jaw stretches wide, he doesn't take his eyes off of you.

SUGGESTION: Indeed, there's a half second where he very deliberately flutters his eyelashes at you - _showing off_.

EMPATHY: A look of intense lust and vainglorious pride. He _wanted_ to see your lack of control and is enjoying every bit of the consequences of it.

YOU: Your hands instinctively tug on his hair as your hips set a frantic, desperate pace.

KIM KITSURAGI: He's keeping up, drooling around you, glasses shifting askew from the force of your thrusting.

PAIN THRESHOLD: If he didn't know what he was doing, he'd be choking for sure.

EMPATHY: As he said before, he'd been looking for a pretext. He's been wanting this. He'd been _planning_ this. He was _ready_.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: The night Captain Pryce invited him to the bar, the night he realized which bar it would be, Kim took a late night drive to a deserted part of the harbor and masturbated in his MC, louder than he could afford to be in this thin-walled apartment, to exactly the image you are creating now. And more. 

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: He can take so much more than you're giving. He _wants_ more than you're giving.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Let's give him everything. You're so close, and as amazing as finishing in and on that mouth would be -

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Abstract art, the dance of primal filth along flesh and glass -

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: He can take more, can't he? Toss him about a bit.

EMPATHY: Everything leading up to this has been provocation. Goading. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Give him what he really wants. Take what _you_ want.

YOU: "Fuck, stop, I want to, I can't," your mouth a swirling of swear words as you pull his mouth off of your cock with more than a little force. 

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Toss him on the bed, before he has time to think about it. Spread those legs wide open, bend them up so his knees touch his shoulders and that glorious ass is exposed to you.

REACTION SPEED: He's beautifully flustered by your movement, eyes wide, then looks quickly to the left. 

PERCEPTION (Sight): There is a pump bottle of lubricant on the nightstand where he's looking.

CONVENIENT LUBE BOTTLE: Kim masturbates almost nightly, slicking himself with the lube from this bottle. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS: You have featured heavily in his fantasies, lately. Indeed, many of those nights after parting with a chaste hug from an evening of helping him move, he'd come straight to bed, strip the minimum viable amount, lube both hands, and have at it, left fist on his cock, right index finger in his ass, moaning your name the whole time.

HAND EYE COORDINATION: You dollop lube generously on your fingers, shooting him a devilish grin as you do so.

YOU: "'Prepared for All Possibilities', I see? Didn't realize you were a Pioneer of La Caillou along with everything else." 

KIM KITSURAGI: "I don't see you complaining. Now, wasn't there something you were about to do?"

YOU: You take that as your cue to push one thick finger inside. 

KIM KITSURAGI: " _Ahhhh_ , _Harry_ ," the lieutenant gasps, legs folding even more tightly against his body, offering himself to you.

EMPATHY: It's your name again, for only the second time tonight - and like this, a wonderful breath of longing and desire. Treasure it. 

PAIN THRESHOLD: Push in, slow but persistent. Feel how hot he is, and tight, yielding under your torturously even pressure; you feel him consciously relax as best he can, welcoming you in. Keep him right on that edge, deep and hard enough to stretch - so close to registering as pain, but careful not to cross that line. Not tonight, at least.

INTERFACING: And doesn't he handle like a dream - so responsive to your touch, straining his hips to take more when you tease too slowly, shuddering beautifully as you slip a second slick finger inside. Isn't this satisfying, to experiment with your touch? To be able to crook your fingers just so and be rewarded with an immediate wanton moan, to know that if you want you can make it happen again, and again?

YOU: The thought comes out of you, a reflex. "I wonder what handles better, you or the Kineema?"

KIM KITSURAGI: "Well you're never finding out, because you will _never_ drive my Kineema."

  1. This is perfect as is, let's linger on this sensation for as long as he can handle it.
  2. I need more, it's not enough, I want to be inside him too badly.
  3. I want more, but he's not ready just yet.



**3**.

PERCEPTION (Taste): Fingers still carefully stretching Kim further, you lean in and run your tongue along the taut and trembling muscles of his leg, trapped as it is underneath you. A long wet strip, tasting the thin sheen of sweat that highlights the well defined contours of his calves.

ENDURANCE: He's not a marathon runner but he's a sprinter - there's power coiled inside, you can taste it. Push his leg up just a bit further, savor how even as he shakes he can meet your strength. Feel the pressure of two forces in glorious opposition.

PERCEPTION (Taste): His skin is so perfectly firm as you let your teeth sink into his inner thigh, biting just so, holding him down as he gasps and surges against you. Then you slide up to mouth at his cock, letting your lips drag sloppily over the head, gluttonous in your urge to devour him.

SAVOIR FAIRE: You're being ridiculously messy, smearing precum and your own drool all over your chin. The facial hair is going to need a real scrubbing after this. It's not smooth - it's outright _debauched_ \- and Kim's cock twitches every time you make eye contact, so you know just how much he enjoys it.

EMPATHY: The movement of your mouth is no match for his masterful display on you earlier; it's meant to be a distraction - and it worked, exactly as planned. 

KIM KITSURAGI: His back is arching at the sensation, his feet kicking up into the air a bit. "Gods, _fuck_ \- "

You guide a third finger in, and the tone _changes_ \- something more ragged, more raw. 

KIM KITSURAGI: " _Goddamn_ , what are you - you - haaaaaa-" He can't finish the sentence, the sensation overloading his ability to form coherent words. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He's realizing just how thick _you_ are, if you felt the need to stretch him further. Sure, you just nearly knocked his jaw loose, but the full consequences of that are just dawning on him. 

PAIN THRESHOLD: Trust me, it was necessary. 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Trust me, he's not complaining. 

HAND EYE COORDINATION: You stretch him open, holding a trembling thigh in your other hand, continuing to lap at his cock. Each movement of your fingers wrenches out another moan, another gasp, another swear. He's barely able to buck against you, with his legs up, but he's trying his best with what little leverage he has. 

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: After having spent so long under his control, mental or physical, there is something powerful and awe-inspiring about having him pinned down. A thrill, knowing you could do whatever you wanted to him. 

EMPATHY: This is also a privilege, as confident as he's been up to this point; still a body opening up to you, intimate. 

PAIN THRESHOLD: The sounds he is making are evening out now - less surprised. His muscles are still tight around your fingers, but no longer strained, and you have thoroughly covered every possible bit you could reach in plenty of lube. He's as ready as he's going to be for you. Slide out slowly, carefully - both feel and hear the anguished groan of the temporary loss.

YOU: You slick up your own cock with more lube, the thrusts into your hand a pale substitute for what's next.

Then you sit up, sliding your bent knees in under his body, supporting his back and his ass against your thighs. You grab his left ankle and settle it on your right shoulder, then angle his right thigh out, pressing your other hand into the fold where thigh meets hip. A shift of your hips, and you're in the right position to enter him at last. 

"Are you ready?"

KIM KITSURAGI: His breathing is deep and even. His cock is twitching against the plane of your stomach. His eyes, through skewed glasses, lock with yours. "Yes, I'm ready. _Please._ "

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: I think it's time for a little revenge for earlier, don't you?

YOU: "Ready for what?" You grin, flashing teeth. "I think you're going to have to tell me."

KIM KITSURAGI: His chest flushes, along with his ears. He looks away, briefly.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: His cock pulses against you, though. He _likes_ this.

KIM KITSURAGI: He looks back up at you, some of the earlier confidence undone in exchange for more wanton desire. " _Please_ , Harry. Fuck me."

PERCEPTION (Touch): It's all the permission you need. The slide is perfect - tight heat, but smooth, delicious. His leg and hip are warm and vibrating slightly in your grip.

PAIN THRESHOLD: It renders as a stretch for him - intense, but welcome. You did well, he's in no pain at all, even as you bury yourself completely in him.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Indeed, the bobbing of his cock against his stomach, the grip of the sheets, the intensity of his eyes screwed shut and the hiss from between his teeth - he wants every bit of this. It is a deep seated, primal craving. Give him what he wants, baby. Fuck his brains out.

YOU: You take a breath, then slide your hips back - relishing the gasp that comes out from him - then snap your hips back in, rewarded with the sound of a moan that will almost certainly wake his neighbors, if not the dead.

COMPOSURE (Impossible: Success): You keep your motions slow at first, steady. You want desire to _build_. You want to hold on and watch Kim come undone completely. 

YOU: "Fucking _hell_ , Kim, you're perfect, you look amazing, you feel amazing," you find yourself babbling, the slick heat undoing any thoughts besides the sheer wonder you feel about your current position.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Gods, fuck, _yes_ , Harry, more, harder, please," panting and desperate from him in return.

EMPATHY: And who are you to deny him at this point? 

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Who are you to deny _yourself_ at this point? Give in. Wreck him and yourself. Head into oblivion together, Disco Zero, the only place all this can go.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Your pick up the pace; fast now, hard, with the full force of your weight into them; in time to the kind of music he likes, primal, thrashing, forceful. 

KIM KITSURAGI: His reactions are exquisite - look at this beautiful mess! Flashes of light bounce chaotically around the room as his glasses get knocked about. He's sweating profusely, the sheen highlighting his musculature just so. A bead of precum at the tip of his hard cock becomes a streak on his stomach with one thrust, joined by more as you go. 

Listen to him cry out for you, gasping, pleading. "I'm so close, _please_ -"

VISUAL CALCULUS: Wait, one second, before you reach to grab his cock, even as it leaks precum all over the both of you. Tilt your pelvis three degrees up and thrust as hard as you can.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Oh _fuck_ \- how did you even - I'm going to -" And with that, a look of amazement and disbelief and lust on his face, as he cums all over the both of you, cock pulsing without direct touch.

YOU: You try to withdraw, give him a break -

KIM KITSURAGI: - but he kicks his legs out from your grip and wraps them around you, holding you in. "Don't _fucking_ stop, I want you to cum _inside_ ," he whines, wanton, insistent.

DRAMA: He is masking some of the impact you are having, but he is being sincere, my lord. He _wants_ you to fuck _all_ of the composure out of him, so that he can't even do that. 

YOU: He presses his ankles against your back and you fall forward, pressing your bodies together as you continue to thrust. You return to his neck and latch on, kissing and sucking up and down his throat. 

KIM KITSURAGI: He slides one hand in your hair and another along your neck; his back arches, his chest rises to meet you. The friction of your bodies makes him hard again, pressed between the two of you. His moans continue, frantic, incoherent.

This moment is perfect, overwhelming, and thus it cannot last -

  


ENDURANCE: And now: a point of undoing. 

VOLITION: A collapse of control. 

RHETORIC: An unfurling of the tangle of the brain.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: An uncoiling of the body. Muscles slacken, release their grip.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: The best, most delicious head high. Pleasure unparalleled, the most disco of emotional states. You are the light and the disco ball and the dancer all in one - bright and scattered and moved by it, all at once. 

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN: Here we are, you filthy animal, right before you teeter into oblivion, baby. Go on - mark him, fill him, make him _yours_ in the oldest, most primal way possible.

LIMBIC SYSTEM: It is not amnesia - you have been there, that terrible uncontrolled wildfire. But it is a different thing, burning clean all your cares for a moment, in exchange for connection to flesh and blood.

YOU: Intimacy and physicality spark a sweeter kind of fire.

  


The world goes white, for just a moment, nothing but feral groans from the both of you and the connection of your bodies. 

  


Spent, you collapse more fully onto him, caring not a bit for the sticky sensation of bodies against each other. It's even slicker than before - he must have come again when you did. "That was amazing," you murmur into the crook of his neck.

KIM KITSURAGI: "Yes-yes, it was. I didn't know you had it in you." You feel his hands move off of you briefly - he's taking his glasses off and stretching to put them on the nightstand.

YOU: "I didn't know _you_ did, either," you respond, as you slowly slide off his body to settle in next to him. "I didn't even know you wanted me like this."

KIM KITSURAGI: He smiles at that. "I've been told I'm a terrible flirt. Alcohol makes it easier though - almost too easy. Maybe one day I'll tell you _that_ story." And with that, he moves to his side and backs into you; you slot in easily, the proverbial bigger spoon. 

RHETORIC: One day, you will fulfill the task "Learn the lieutenant's drunkotype". Today is not that day. 

SUGGESTION: Pull the covers up around you both. This is the time to be gentle, to be tender, right as you drift off.

YOU: "Hey. Kitsy. Are you awake?" 

KIM KITSURAGI: " _Kitsy?_ " 

EMPATHY: He's surprised by the new nickname, but it's not unwelcome.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: After years of "Kimball", let alone terrible racist epithets said in the name of "joking", he's bristled at the idea of being nicknamed again - but he can tell this comes from genuine affection. It'll take him time to get used to it, but he's willing to give you that time. 

YOU: "Sorry, don't like it?" 

KIM KITSURAGI: "... I didn't say that." He's silent, for just a moment, considering. "What is it, Harry?" 

YOU: "Is your secret _really_ cock sucking? I mean, that was incredible, but -" 

KITSY: "Khm." 

EMPATHY: Affectionate, amused.

KITSY: "I guess you'll have to keep detecting to find out." 

YOU: "... tomorrow?" 

KITSY: His chuckle is soft and genuine. "Sure, maybe you'll get it tomorrow. Good night, Harry." 

YOU: "Good night, Kitsy."

PERCEPTION (Touch): He curls up a bit in your arms, warm, settled. His breathing is gentle, even. 

SHIVERS: At your back is a window left slightly ajar, and a whisper of wind kisses the back of your neck, sending a chill down your spine. It carries to your senses a hint of the sea, a life in salt. Dark depths, stretching on and on, across a city with every possible story to tell. Dots of humanity in motion, drenched in sea spray, peering for signs of life in the dark, dreaming of the kind of warmth and connection you have at hand.

Coldly uncaring the breeze blows past, skimming the hard and barren planes of marble and oak, swirling around the discarded detritus of personal touchstones, dreams of the sparkling lights of disco and the thrilling whirl of aerostatics. The breeze slides through the cracks in the door and into the hallway, down into the street, retracing a path further and further back. To a discrete bar in Jamrock where lonely hearts have lingered. To a dock on the coast of Martinaise, where a woman watches the waves alone. Perhaps even all the way to a small hostel, a balcony that always smells of smoke; through a once shattered window, now cracked open into a room that will never be completely free of a permeated unpleasant odor.

Warm breath suddenly replaces the chill, as Kim stirs enough to reach out and draw the covers more snugly around you both. The wind carries on its way, but you are no longer carried with it. You're just here, now, with your partner settled back against your chest. Two hearts slowing and syncing into a shared beat.

YOU: You close your eyes again and allow yourself to drift to sleep, under the moon; you give yourself a chance to dream.

INLAND EMPIRE: In the morning, there will be a moment of confusion, as you find the lieutenant does not drink coffee and thus does not have any on hand. 

In a few days, there will be a moment of pride, as you introduce Kim formally to the 41st and are assigned your first case with him. 

In a few weeks, there will be a moment of joy, as he invites you back to that bar on a Friday night.

In a few months? In a few years? Things are hazier, besides the light behind Kim's face. That much will stay, a beacon to guide you onwards. 

**Author's Note:**

> Enormous, enormous thanks to:
> 
> Mysterious PartnerBeast, human-shaped Animal of Esteem, my love ♥  
> [Pika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikalex88/pseuds/pikalex88), Mistress of Shivers and best collaborator, my darling ♥
> 
> and the rest of the beta crew for this, you know who you are!
> 
> Art by [Bird](https://two2ds.tumblr.com/): [ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You have not forgotten what you're doing; how to tease, how to play.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/667948683391795210/680899805773692997/20200222_161229.jpg)
> 
> OH YEAH THERE'S A VIDEO GAME VERSION NOW. [Enjoy!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532699)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Sweeter Kind of Fire - The Game](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532699) by [coolant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolant/pseuds/coolant), [Kawa (fandomonymous)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomonymous/pseuds/Kawa), [pikalex88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikalex88/pseuds/pikalex88)




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